


White Joy

by islasands



Series: Lambski [35]
Category: Adam Lambert (Musician)
Genre: Fighting Talk, M/M, Sacred Fucking, White Joy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-05
Updated: 2012-03-05
Packaged: 2017-11-01 04:03:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/351740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/islasands/pseuds/islasands
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Adam is feeling emotionally drained by the demands of work. It's costing him more than he is prepared to admit. He is afraid of himself and his commitments and that fear translates into anger.</p>
            </blockquote>





	White Joy

“What was that about?” Sauli didn’t know what to think. The aggression he could understand, - it went with the territory of separations, but for Adam to stop mid-flight, to suddenly roll off him and lie on his back, pulling up the sheet defensively, was more than unexpected. It was out of character.

“I can’t do this,” Adam said to the ceiling.

“Okay,” Sauli replied. He joined in the ceiling viewing for a while to see if Adam intended to elaborate, but at length acknowledged Adam’s silence as a kind of full stop and turned on his side, ready and willing to sleep. His innate fatalism had kicked in, as it always did, and he effortlessly shrugged off consciousness as though it was nothing more than a garment. He was a man of action, not introspection, and under the circumstances of time and place sleep seemed the most sensible action to take.

But his relaxed departure from Adam’s emotional whereabouts, without so much as a goodnight, let alone an inquiry into his state of mind, was more than infuriating to Adam. It was a physical blow. He ached with the futility of his anger. He stared at the back of Sauli’s sleeping head. “I do all the work in this relationship,” he thought. “And I can’t do that _and_ my other work. It’s too much. I’m wrung out. I have nothing left to give. Not even to him.”

His unhappiness persisted till morning. His stomach was physically cramping from grinding the stones of discontent. He got up and found Sauli sitting outside under an umbrella, eating breakfast and reading a Finnish magazine. He sat down opposite him and waited for him to speak. Sauli looked over his glasses at him. “What would you like for breakfast? I could make pancakes. We have wild cherries. You love them.”

Adam glared at him. “I don’t want you to make me anything. That’s my very problem. You making me things. I don’t need looking after, for fuck’s sake.”

There was long pause while Sauli thought it over. “Fair enough,” he replied at length. “I won’t do that anymore.” He pushed his glasses back up his nose and carried on reading.

“What I do want,” Adam said, leaning forward and conjuring the closest approximation to a sneer that his love for Sauli would permit, “is to know why people with sunny dispositions are so fucking hard to live with.” He leaned back and folded his arms. Sauli’s returning gaze, so naturally disaffiliated from guile or cunning, was an unnerving force to be reckoned with. “When it’s raining in my fucking world,” Adam continued, somewhat doggedly, “you swan around like your life’s a fucking beach and that’s all that matters.”

Sauli took off his glasses. “Why is it raining in your world?”

“Because it is. Because I can’t give you what you need.”

“What do I need?”

“You need domestic intimacy. You need attention. You need to be married and I can’t marry you. I can’t give you or anyone my undivided attention. I just can’t.”

Sauli pushed back his chair and stood up. “What a crock,” he said. He grinned down at Adam amiably. “What an absolute crock! Look, I don’t need this bullshit and I don’t need you. I might want you, but if you’re not available, so be it. You’re right, the sun will still shine in my little world. Just say the word,” he shrugged, “and I’ll be on my ‘sunny’ way.”

“Come back here,” Adam shouted. “Stop walking out on me!”

He got up and followed Sauli into the house. He grabbed his shoulders and spun him around. “Don’t _do_ that,” he said. He was all set for a shouting match, hoped there would be one in fact, but was suddenly alarmed by the look in Sauli’s eyes. Gone was the cool yet simmering impartiality of loving approval with which his gaze was customarily filled. Instead his eyes had hardened into pale blue ice. Sauli pushed him away. “You want to look after yourself – so go and do it.”

Adam knew better than to follow him this time. He heard the door slam. He went out onto the deck and watched him walking down the drive. He caught a glimpse of him walking down the road. His instinctive jealousy, never far from the surface, rose up and used his actual mouth to bare its teeth. Why should that bastard be free to walk away from him?  He leaned over the deck railing and shouted, “I might not fucking want you but you’re still mine!” His voice, let alone the irrationality of his sentiments, came back at him, ringing in the silence of the valley. He shook his head in disbelief. How could he be so stupid. He went inside the house. He slumped on a chair and waited.

The hours went by and still he waited. At last he received a call on his phone. It was him. “I’m hurt,” said his voice. Adam jumped up. “What do you mean? What’s happened? Where are you?”

“You hurt me,” Sauli said calmly. “You wanted to share your injury, whatever it is, so you hurt me. I don’t like it.”

“Come home,” Adam said. ‘I’m so sorry.”

“It’s what you did last night. I’ve thought about it. If you want to fuck me, then you finish what you begin. Fucking, - fucking between us... Well, it’s sacred. To me, it is. That’s my rule. Don’t ever do that again.”

Adam’s face burned. He had seldom experienced embarrassment but when he did, it hit him hard. He had never, in fact, felt so embarrassed in his entire life.

“I’m sorry I hurt you,” he said. “Will you come home?”

“Later. I’ll come home later. Will you please take the ground beef out of the freezer to defrost. I want to make lihapyorykoita. You like that.”

Adam did as he was bid and held off from crying until Sauli walked in, took him in his arms, and kissed him passionately. Then he wept, and then they fucked, right there in the hallway, handling the contents of their unzipped pants with the same urgent solicitude as they handled the contents of their hearts. Their reconciliation was joyous with relief; they were safe. 

“Did you hear me yelling at you?” Adam said, licking the white joy he had left on Sauli’s fingers.

Sauli smiled, by way of answering him, and Adam smiled back, ruefully, but pleased nonetheless.

 

 

 

 


End file.
